Lingual Rose and the Garden of Whispers
by StarryNight1313
Summary: The life of my OC Lingual Rose and her journey though the tortures of the mind as well as the destiny of her cutie mark. Rated T for coming chapters of possible psychological trauma. The story will be in English with brief snatches of other languages; feel free to use a translator!
1. Chapter 1

In the small town of Ponyville, during one stormy night, a small pegasus pony was born. As she entered the world through the darkness of the womb she had previously known, a crack of lightning split the sky. From inside the hospital, for that was where the mother had gone upon entering the pains of labor, the lightning could do no harm. Yet, for all that, the sound and the flash of light startled the mother, and in doing so the foal was pushed forth from the darkness into the blinding light of the world. A healthy white earthpony, a nurse, took the child from the mother quickly in order to care for the small foal. To everyponies delight, the foal seemed healthy enough, but it did not make a sound as most foals might. This displeased the nurse and she attempted to stroke the cheeks of the foal, prompting it to sound and signal that it could, indeed, do so. It did not. Just then, a second strike of lightning split the sky anew and the small foal's cry split the night. The nurse, kind-hearted as she was, was naturally pleased to see that the babe was healthy. However, the foal made such a piercing cry that the nurse was a bit shaken, though she made no comment nor motion to indicate this.

The small pegasus was handed into the welcoming hooves of her mother, whose identity was neither important nor worth noting. The foal, however, basked in the new sensation of heat and soon snuggled to her mother. Then, very slowly as if to savor the moment somehow, the foal began to open her eyes. For the first time, though unknowingly, it gazed upon the world with its deep green eyes. Outside the storm began to die down and the winds began to settle. The foal gave no notice to this and, as was it want, began to close its eyes once more. For a third and final time the lightning flashed and the thunder boomed. The green eyes of the pegasus burst open and she screamed, though no sound escaped her tiny lips.

The life of this small pegasus seemed uneventful to say the least, albeit from the perspective from the casual onlooker. In truth, the day to day activities of the minty-green pony did seem quite uneventful. She, like the other fillies, went to school in order to learn a great man things, including the wonderful event in one's life that was the earning of the cutie mark. This fascinated the young foal greatly. Would her cutie mark be something extraordinary? Perhaps a mark of a great scholar or athlete? Would it signify her destiny to aid others in life?

Standing before the mirror in her room, the pony attempted to glean what her purpose was in life, just what it was that made her unique. Looking in the mirror, she did not see much at all; this disappointed her greatly. For, in the mirror, the filly saw a minty-green pony with a maroon and tail. The forest-green eyes were deep, but did not contrast with her coat color whatsoever. Snorting, the filly cast her reflection aside, denying it quite completely. Whatever her purpose was, whatever destiny planned for her, it certainly could not be encountered in this mirror.

The filly went from her room, where the wretched mirror lied, and headed outside into her own personal garden. In truth, the garden was a part of the house that her parents, who were of no significance, owned, but it was as good as hers anyways. Yes, the garden was truly her own as she tended to all of its needs—the watering, the weeding, the seeding. Yet for all her efforts, gardening in and of itself did not seem to be her special talent as no mark ever appeared on her flank. It was maddening. Though, if the filly was to be honest with herself, she would not have wanted a gardening cutie mark anyways. No, a gardening cutie mark did not seem grandiose enough and therefore she did not desire it as fervently. What she wanted, what she desired, had to amount to more than a silly gardening cutie mark. It was her wish, so therefore it was certain.

Still frustrated with her time spent by the mirror, the filly began to weed out the garden. She went about it, normally, in a very orderly fashion, but today was not ordinary, not really. Instead, today the filly went about yanking the weeds from each corner of the soil and tossing them about. To her surprise, tears began to well up in her big eyes, but that could not be helped after all. Then, after her little bout of rage had subsided, she began to water her roses. The roses, in fact, were her favorites of the garden and pervaded most of the square footage of the place. They were, as they were meant to be, a deep bloody red, akin to the mane of the filly who tended them. It was the middle of spring now and the flowers had already begun to blossom nicely. Each petal stretched out from the bud, display each their sensual beauty, but never to be parted from the flower itself. That was the curse of such beauty.

The filly, still as mute as ever, began to sit quietly in her garden as she so often did. In truth, she felt as though she did not need to speak at all. What was the point of blathering endlessly when all the world's truths could simply be gained by listening? This she did. In the blissful silence of the garden, the pony could become one with what gave her such life. The wind rustled each leaf of the garden, leading them momentarily into a frenzied dance that was never to last. The wind played with the long ponytail of the filly, picking it up but always returning it back to form. It was a friendly gesture in the end. However, the wind switched and began to swirl constrictingly about her. The pegasus, being a winged creature, attempted to extend her wings and fly away, but the wind tore her down and held her firmly planted in the place. Then, for the first time in her life, she heard the words that had been hidden for so long.

"Können Sie mich hören?"

And, surprisingly, the filly spoke. Once more, for the first time in her short life, the words she never thought she possessed came readily to her lips. Her mouth, so dry from the lifeless idolatry it had long endured, began to crack into use. Her ears, however, rebelled against the sound and turned down upon hearing such a dusty voice, so worn with disuse.

"نعم حقا."

In a moment of rapture the filly whinnied with joy, a frivolity almost unknown to her until this point. She bucked up and down, her tiny wings carrying her off the garden floor and into the wind once more. Her eyes lit up with a green fire from the depths of the leaves that surrounded her and a smile broke the face of one so long without one. In a dazzling display of light, the flank of the filly glowed and shimmered. Still beating her tiny wings, the filly looked down and smiled quite genuinely once more. Upon her flank was a type-set letter "A" in bold black with a thorny vine of red surrounding it. Though she did not understand it completely, the filly was overjoyed. At long last she had discovered her talent: language!

[Or had she really?]


	2. Chapter 2

The event of finally earning her cutiemark had not affected the townsfolk in the same manner it had the filly. Of course, she had been affected more greatly due to the fact that it was a mark of change upon her life, but even so normally in Ponyville such a happening was a grand event worthy of celebration. Still, nopony had breathed even a word to her about her new mark. It was, quite literally as though she didn't exist. Such a lonely feeling bottled up inside the young filly, that she could do nothing but heave a long sigh.

Looking down upon her flank, she followed her heart's desire and went into the garden. The roses were silent today, and had been since the event of earning her cutiemark. Today, even the wind refused to speak to her. In a very desperate act, the filly felt she needed to speak, even if only to fill the silence that so tortured her. Opening her mouth, once more as dry as the deserts in some far-off land, she spoke the words that most needed to be heard:

"My name is Lingual Rose."

With those words, the filly had taken her fate into her own hooves. Her identity had been spoken aloud in the garden for all to hear. However, in the lack of ears, excepting her own of course, all that remained to hear such a declaration were the roses. Upon the proclamation of the diminutive pony, the flowers burst forth with life. The wind howled and the sky grew ever dark. From nowhere, clouds filled the grey sky though there was no pegasus weather-pony to put them there. Growing fearful, the pony called Lingual Rose shrunk back, her wings folding against her body in terror. Her maroon mane swirled in the wind and raged against the constrictions of the ponytail. Afraid and alone, she raised her eyes to the roses. As they had before, they began to speak and from that day on the never ceased.

Never.

Many years later the filly transformed into a mare, as so often happened during the course of a lifetime. Her coat, now sleek and shiny, did still not draw the attention of those around her. Indeed, the slight physical beauty that she possessed did nothing to earn the attention, much less admiration, of those ponies around her. No, those in Ponyville preferred to hear about the daily exploits of the heroes of town, not some nopony pegasus with parents of little import. When she walked about town, she gazed intently at those around her and wondered fondly if, someday, she would matter to someone. Even just to have one friend, thought the pony, that would make all the difference.

During the days, she worked in the public garden of Ponyville. It was not, by any means, as grand and ceremonious as the famous castle garden in Canterlot, but it was lovely nonetheless, and in no small part due to fact that it was Lingual Rose tending it. While there were other ponies that sold flowers in the market square, Lingual Rose preferred to remain alone in her work. She did enjoy the pleasure of thinking in quiet solitude most of her days. Some days she wished for a companion in her efforts, but none ever came. Under her care alone the garden flourished with a life that seemed to captivate all who passed it. When the mare saw others stop and admire her handiwork, she felt a deep sense of pride well up within her. This, more than anything else, was her reason for her work in the public garden of Ponyville.

However, her private garden remained even more impressive. Since fillyhood, she had developed techniques so skillful that she could keep her flowers alive even during the winter season. Still, this was a bit less important to her as all that remained in the personal garden were the roses. Some time ago, the thorny vines of the roses had choked out all of the other plants in the garden. The daisies, the purest and happiest of all the flowers, had been the first to die. Lingual Rose herself had attempted to save them, employing all manner of tricks to save them, but to no avail. The daisies, strangled, died without another breath. The lilies followed and so on and so on until all that was left was the horrible red of the bloody roses. Still, what could the pony do but care for the roses anyways?

They told her they were her only friends, after all.

So it was that during a particularly warm spring day, the mare trotted outside to water the roses. The roses loved the sunshine the most, but without proper water they could not thrive. With a watering-can in hoof, Lingual Rose made her way outside. The sun shone down on her, warming her body. She felt uplifted by the spirit of the nature outside, so much so that she almost felt like spreading her wings to go for a fly. As she extended them however, the thorns that circled the gazebo of the garden grew thicker and blotted out the sunshine so that the pony remained in the shadows, her minty green coat dappled by the shade.

Sighing, she moved away from the gazebo and returned, temporarily, into the light. She began to water the plants and hummed gently to herself. She was off-key but it was still lovely nevertheless. Then, her ears pricked up. The whispering had begun.

One rose moved slightly towards her, the thorns trickling along the vine as it slithered towards the pony so that the magnificent bloom was staring her directly in the face. The pony, startled, blinked. Still, she was not so surprised that she backed away, though her wings still remained firmly attached to her sides. She put down the watering can.

"Bạn có hạnh phúc không?"

Slowly, for the question was so pointed, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down with a fearful sort of canter. The rose withdrew and many others began to surround it. The pony attempted to reach out to them, but they cut her with their thorns. The pony winced with withdrew. A long cut appeared on her foreleg and, as it appeared, a slow drop of blood began to trickle down her foreleg. The sight of the blood made her feel faint, but she did not have much time to dwell upon it.

"我们让你快乐." The pony nodded once more, this time with a bit of fervor. Of course the roses made her happy, why wouldn't they? Still, with the blood currently dripping down her soft coat she was reminded of the dangers of such happiness—such beauty. Her terror began to intensify and she reached for the watering can once more. The roses did not stop her and instead let her continue with the watering.

"Τραγουδούν για μας."

And she began to, in a wavering and weak voice, one that would not possibly gain any attention whatsoever. However, as weak as the voice was the words held all the power they needed to. And so, with the words she knew so well, she began to sing:

" _Tu vas me détruire_

 _Tu vas me détruire_

 _Et je vais te maudire_

 _Jusqu'à la fin de ma vie_

 _Tu vas me détruire_

 _Tu vas me détruire_

 _J'aurais pu le prédire_

 _Dès le premier jour_

 _Dès la première nuit_."

As she sang the little melody, the roses cried out in ecstasy, each in a different tongue that could neither be seen nor possessed. The vines tangled together in sweet bliss and the thorns glided past one another, neither quite piecing nor evading. Lingual Rose watched the display, her lips wet with song. So many times had she witness such an act, yet the longing she held within her never dissipated, even after the climax had long passed. So, in a grotesque manner, she contented herself with watching.

When the roses had finished, their blooms grew ever larger and even more rosy, flushed with the heat of the day. Setting the watering-can down for a third time, the pony smiled weakly. Yes, the secret to everlasting roses was a bit of a song after all. Though, the song was not what truly mattered. Lingual Rose did not notice that, really, the roses also grew when she shrank away from them—when her frighten face was against the proud "faces" of the blooms. To her, the reality of the situation was that the song changed the roses and this reality was what marked her perverse life.


	3. Chapter 3

As it happened, one day there came another pony into Ponyville—one that would change Lingual Rose's life forever. Whether grand or ill fortune would result, it was hard to say. One particular day in the summer there came a unicorn sent by Princess Celestia herself from Canterlot. From the town square, Lingual Rose had seen a purple unicorn in the company of a baby dragon. At first, the green pegasus thought nothing of it—after all many ponies came to Ponyville, though granted none of them were sent by the Princess herself. When Lingual Rose heard, in passing for no one would ever speak directly to her, that the unicorn was staying in the library, she had to see for herself.

Though the pegasus was more proficient in oral languages, after all the roses spoke to her every day, it was still quite interesting to learn the written languages as well. For this reason, Lingual Rose was curious to see if this "scholarly" pony taking residence in the library would be able to help her in this area. Though, the pony thought dejectedly, it would be complicated. No one ever paid any thought to her, why would this one be any different? Still, forming something of a resolve, the pegasus elected to go.

By wing, the pony flew over to the Golden Oak Library at the center of town. Tonight was the first night that the unicorn would be spending in Ponyville and, for this, there was to be a sort of "surprise" party for her. The real surprise was that everypony was already away of the party. Needing no sort of invite, Lingual Rose felt somewhat confident that she would be able to enter without any sort of problem and, in this respect, she was correct. Without anypony saying a word to her, she entered the library and was consumed by the mass of ponies within. During all the commotion, she was not quite able to approach the unicorn. From the other side of the room, she saw the purple unicorn, her lovely streaked mane brilliant in the low-lighting, sipping on punch and talking with some other residents of the town. How badly she wanted to approach this pony called Twilight! But sadly, the room was simply too full for Lingual Rose to move more than a hoof in any direction.

Throughout the night, the pegasus continued her efforts to advance towards this Twilight pony, but her hard-work was often foiled by a pony simply standing in her way and refusing to move. Well, refusing to move or ignoring her. Sometimes it was hard to tell which ponies were doing—or whether it was a conscious effort or not. Finally, when it was approaching daylight hours, Lingual Rose managed to squeeze her way through the crowd and found herself muzzle to muzzle with the famous Twilight from Canterlot, the protégée of the Princess Celestia. Smiling weakly, the green pony opened her mouth to speak but found that no words could come. Thinking quickly, she made a supreme exertion to say "hello" and only "hello" but the words would not form—in any language! Tears sprang to her dark eyes and she grew frustrated with her inability to communicate. Twilight, directly in front of her, looked at her—yes, really looked at her! But, after a few moments of silence, must have decided that the pony was not going to speak at all and moved along. Crushed, the pegasus ran out of the room weeping and flew quickly home.

Utterly defeated, utterly crushed, and utterly humiliated, Lingual Rose sat in her rose garden. Her tears fell quickly to the soft soil beneath her hooves, quite literally fueling the roses around her. In the darkness, she could only see the faint outlines of the vines. The swirled in intricate circles and the thorns scraping past each other sounded as snickers and jeers. Sobbing, the pony heard them but payed them no mind. Finally, with her own voice, her very own voice, she spoke to them:

"あなたは正しかった。私は皆さん以外の友達はいません."

The roses laughed, or so it seemed, and a song of jeers and derisive chuckling played out in the night air. Even the wind seemed to mock her in the moment as she continued to weep. After all, who would want to even be her friend but the roses she tended so carefully? There was nothing to be friends with; she was nothing to be friends with. The roses, not directly to her face but rather to the night air, responded:

"Persze, hülye póni. Ki szeretlek, de nekünk?"

Confronted with this statement the weak pony had no choice but to accept it as the legitimate truth. Nopony would be her friend. The roses began to wrap themselves around her hooves tightly so that even the slightest move would result in great pain from the thorns so close to piercing her hide. The vines trailed up to her neck, wrapping around it as a lover would—gently but with a dangerous intention behind the gentility. Defeated, Lingual Rose did not resist. The vines held her as she wept, feeding and feeding them until there was nothing left inside her.

The following week did not aid in the recovery of her confidence whatsoever. After finding out that Twilight and her "new" friends saved Equestria from Nightmare Moon and her Eternal Night, Lingual Rose was more put down than ever. It was obvious now that this wonderful unicorn did not need her as a friend when she had such perfect ones already—heroines no less. Sighing became her new past time and she became discontented in her clean-up of the public gardens. In fact, they began to wither and decay in front of her, even as she worked. The sight of death around her did not move the pony and she simply sighed the matter away.

It wasn't until one particular day, as Lingual Rose was trimming the hedges around the public plaza that she began to change her attitude. As a form of miracle, somepony approached her.

"Hey, you!" came a voice, high-pitched and almost nasally sounding.

Lingual Rose did not look up. She was not used to someone calling for her at all. So, in keeping with her usual routine, she continued on with her work and ignored the call. Her ears, instead, were focused on the _snip-snip_ of the clippers that she held in her hooves. However, the pink mare did not cease and continued to call in her direction. With a confused look upon her face, the green pony turned to the pink one, with a lovely yellow mane, and paused. The air was empty for a moment, void of both emotions and words. Lingual Rose was about to return to her work when the pink pony spoke once more.

"What are you doing?"

Blinking, the green pegasus could think of nothing to say to this earth pony. In the absence of dialogue, Lingual Rose instead turned her attention to the physical appearance of this mare. There was a pure white lily in her mane and her cutiemark was, as well, three white lilies. Sighing gently, the pegasus thought of her own cutiemark of the rose vine with thorns. How ironic that this pure lily should speak to such a thorny and insignificant pony such as her.

"I mean, normally the gardens look wonderful but they have been awful lately. I know you are the pony that cares for them."

Lingual Rose shrank back, aware that she was being scolded. Still, she could not bring herself to speak and, in doing so, defend herself. Seeing this, the pink mare changed her attitude and smiled gently.

"I'm sorry, how rude I am! My name is Lily Valley and I live in Ponyville too. I think I've seen you around before."

The green pony could only bring herself to nod slightly. She had seen this pretty pony in the square before. She sold flowers in town along with some other mares. Really, since they were both so interested in plants—and specifically flowers—they should have been friends long ago. Laughing internally, Lingual Rose noted the irony and reminded herself exactly why she could not ever have friends anyway.

"Well, and I'm so sorry about this, I seem to have forgotten your name. What is it?"

Finally, an opportunity to speak in which she felt confident. Making eye-contact, Lingual Rose looked up into the wonderful golden eyes of this Lily Valley to whom she was now acquainted. In her own voice, though strained, she managed to whisper:

"Lingual Rose."

It hurt to speak. This effort seemed to please the other as she smiled widely. It seemed, momentarily, that she was going to say something else but then she—for some reason—did not. With a gentle grin, she took the lily from her mane and placed it in the bloody-red mane of the other mare.

"Hey, I'll see you around, okay?"

Lingual Rose watched the other walk away before picking up the clippers and returning to her work. Inside, though she knew the interaction had not been by any means perfect, she was smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

From then on, when Lingual Rose was at work in the gardens, Lily would trot up to visit her. It appeared as though Lily had figured out that the other mare could not or had problems speaking and, for this, the pink pony took it upon herself to fill the air with her wonderful words. Oftentimes she came to compliment the work of the green pegasus, which had improved since their first chat. Of course, it wasn't that the work itself had improved though Lingual Rose's newfound skills so much as she had returned to form and worked a bit harder if only to impress her new friend.

Today Lily was relating all that she could about her new batch of flowers, which were currently growing nicely at home. She was brightly chattering on while Lingual Rose began to tend to the hydrangeas. They always needed more water than what the weather pegasi could provide. While doing so, of course the green pony noticed that Lily was hesitant in her words today, unusually so. Normally the cute pony would chatter on without regards to her words. She was not so carefully guarded as the other. So, addressing the issue, Lingual Rose ceased her watering activities and looked Lily in her golden eyes, cocking her head ever so slightly.

"What?" asked Lily, blinking.

Lingual pointed at the other pony.

Lily laughed nervously and stepped back. She continued acting nervously and flipped back her mane, tittering once more. She knew what the other wanted and yet could not quite bring herself to address it. Stepping back did her no good either as the other took a step forward and, in a bold gesture, put her hoof upon the shoulder of the pink pony. Where it was a gesture of intimacy or some such thing, it was hard to say. Certain to say that Lily would have preferred it in such a way, but she did not assume it.

"You think something is wrong with me, don't you?"

The green one nodded surely.

"Well, you'd be right I suppose. I was nervous because I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over this afternoon and see my flowers, maybe have some tea as well?"

This she said with her head slightly lowered, gazing up into the almost endlessly green eyes of her newfound friend. Surprisingly, the pony did not reject her and nodded eagerly, a small smile playing out upon her face. Lily lit up immediately, giving an adorable whinny. She took the green pony's hoof in hers and together they went quite quickly from the gardens leaving the watering can where it lay.

Lily's house was situated more in the center of Ponyville along the main road. It was a simple two-story house with a hay-thatched roof, quite similar in design to that of Lingual Rose. The wood carvings that shone on the edges of the house, filled in by a white clay mixture on the outside, gave a sentiment of antiquity, but not in the rotting antiquity of Lingual Rose's houses if not more of a "classic" feel. Lily smiled widely and led her in through the front door, which had a carved lily on the front of it. The other followed slowly, not sure of exactly how to act.

The house was equally lovely on the inside with flowers decorating every inch of the house. It was exactly what the other was expecting. However, the house was quite tidy, with a little kitchen off to one side of the first floor with a tidy little living room with a small table in the center. It was here that they now sat.

The sofa was off to the ide so that the light from the window facing the street streamed in, warming them. It was as if Lily too needed the sunlight to grow, almost like her beloved flowers. This thought made Lingual Rose shudder and she silently noted that she may prefer more of the darkness after this point. Sitting back upon the couch, Lingual Rose accepted Lily's offer of tea. When the pink earthpony asked for a type that the other would prefer, the green pegasus simply shook her head. It didn't matter.

Lily returned quickly with two tea cups and placed them both upon the small wooden table before them. She picked hers back up equally as quickly and began to sip it with some sort of mission. Lingual poked hers with the edge of her hoof and sighed slightly. This would be pure bliss if…

Well, firstly if the roses didn't exist. Secondly if she had never spoken to them. Thirdly if they had never…

The question remained: how could she possibly enjoy herself with such grand problems to ponder? She couldn't.

Lily set down her cup, empty, and studied her new friend for a moment. It was odd that she was so quiet, as normally she enjoyed speaking more than anything else in the world, but today was a bit different. It was obvious that something bothered her new friend, that something always seemed to be preoccupying the thoughts of this rugged pegasus. Perhaps she had befriended her because she pitied her, but that was far too cruel. On a different level, Lily was beginning to see that she had reached out to such a pony because she was genuinely interested. However, such a relationship was out of the question until some other problems had been addressed.

"So, Lingual Rose, I know that you don't like to, or can't, speak. But, I'm curious as to your past, as to your present. I know its selfish, but I want to know more about you. Is that selfish?"

This shocked the pegasus and she spit out the tea she had been sipping. Putting the cup down she looked upon the lovely pony with dark eyes. It wasn't selfish to want to know more about someone you called a friend. Deep down, Lingual Rose knew it was she that was selfish for hiding such information. However, her only way of communication was through the roses, in languages that surely this pony would not be able to understand. So then, how to communicate? And, once she did, would Lily still want to be her friend? Lingual Rose debated bringing the mare to her garden but decided against it. It was certain that once she saw that, she would never be her friend. Never ever.

For a moment, the green pegasus pondered this quandary. She had never before thought about exactly how to communicate herself to other ponies as, well, it had never been an issue she had wished to address until this point. However, it was important now and that was all that mattered. Opening her mouth, and denying the pain, Lingual Rose spoke for the second time to her truest friend:

"Jag kan skriva."

Lily paused for a moment. What was that language? For it certainly was not one she was familiar with. However, it was her only clue as to the mysteries of her newest friend. Then, Lingual Rose, crying with the effort it had taken her to speak, moved her hoof over the other in the motion that looked almost like…writing! Jumping forward, Lily hugged her friend. At last, they could truly communicate! Lingual Rose wept harder and accepted the hug, but did not return it.


	5. Chapter 5

The problem became obvious almost immediately. Though the green pegasus had been more than happy to announce her alternate method of communication, namely writing in English to her new friend Lily, however she had not contemplated the possibility that it would be difficult or even impossible. Though Lingual Rose could indeed write in English, all the fillies who had attended school learned how eventually, the problem was that her communication skills were limited. Indeed, though she was amazingly gifted at spoken languages it seemed that her writing skills were that of a small filly—if not worse. Not only that, but her energy seemed to be stifled when she attempted to write. The best she could do was simply scribble: "I can write" upon the page.

Why she couldn't write baffled even she for, though her cutie mark was in spoken language, it wasn't as though she couldn't do other things outside of her talent. For this, she grew eerie and distant. Lily, though initially excited, grew disillusioned as well with the idea. Though she ever supported her friend's endeavors, it seemed as though she were never going to communicate with her after all. Because of this, Lingual Rose was scared that Lily would leave. After all, would she still want to be friends after all of this? Inside, she knew that something had to be done before the gap between them grew too wide.

Lingual Rose, after days of thought, finally thought of at least one thing that could help them, other than her failed attempts at writing her feelings. Lily would have to learn a language, any language, but at least one other than English it seemed. On a sheet of plain paper, the pegasus scrawled: "Maybe take language class. School. Tuesdays. Spanish."

The pink earthpony, still eager to become friends with the other, nodded at the idea saying that she would think upon it during the week. Then, something unexpected happened. Lingual Rose, at the door of her house with a piece of paper in her hoof, now waving in the wind, leapt out to hug her friend. She seemed to be weeping once more. In a harsh whisper, Lingual Rose said:

"मत छोड़ो."

Lily, her golden eyes sparkling, drew back from the hug and gave her friend a wide smile. She stroked her friend's maroon ponytail tenderly. Then, with a little kiss upon the cheek of her friend, so to speak, she said gently:

"I don't know what you said but let me tell you this: you're my friend Lingual Rose and nothing can change that. I don't care if we have to write a few things down or take a language class or two. I just like spending time with you. If anything, the silence we share says so much more. I'll come back this afternoon for tea, okay?"

The other nodded and Lily turned to leave. She smiled one more time before prancing off to Town Square where the Town Hall lay. (It was there that the classes would be held, after all). Lingual Rose, with nothing else to do and nowhere else to turn, went into the garden until such time as her friend could return. Though Lily had indeed comforted her before leaving, still the doubt lingered in the heart of the pegasus. She closed the door behind her and entered the garden. She gazed up languidly at the sky. The sun was still high but it would set soon and, when it did, her friend would return. As if sensing her thoughts, the roses grew restless and began to shake their leaves.

"Она здесь идет, не так ли? Это пони вы называете "друга". Вы солгали нам."

Lingual Rose did not move from where she was, near the door, and kept gazing up at the sun. She believed, foolishly, that if she did not gaze upon the roses that they could not hurt her. Indeed, this was not true. After a moment of silence the pony moved into the garden, sighing. It was true; she did abandon her roses in favor of her new "friend". However, it wasn't as though she had really lied about it at all. In fact, she had said nothing. Absolutely nothing. With deep green eyes pleading, the pony said (without hesitation):

"Dat is niet waar. Ik heb niet gelogen. Ik heb niets te zeggen."

The roses twisted around one another, as if angered. The pony flicked her tail and turned around. The followed her and snaked around the gazebo like snakes through the grass. Still the creature held her ground; she wasn't going to be intimidated by her own garden. After all, Lily would soon return and then they could carry on in blissful peace. The roses began to grow downwards, closing in on the pony so that the gazebo appeared to have walls of vines and thorns. Suddenly it grew dark, though it was the middle of the day, at least in the perception of the now nervous pegasus. Lingual Rose began to panic; she was claustrophobic. Tears sprang to her eyes now.

"Apakah Anda mencintainya? Anda lakukan, bukan?"

Lingual Rose desperately wanted to scream the truth that yes, yes she did love Lily, but she simply could not. Her voice was stuck in her throat and, when she attempted to speak, all that came out was a squeal. She tried to fly up past the vines, but they blocked her, repeating that question over and over. Did she love Lily? Of course she did, but…

"Natirèlman mwen fè!"

The roses seemed to be surprised by her admittance of her love, for they loosened their hold of the wooden poles of the gazebo. Lingual Rose tried to escape past them, but they tightened the grip once more. The pony kicked against them, spurning them. The roses ground the vines together and a strange hissing noise was produced.

"Syng for oss og ikke for henne."

The green pony shuffled her wings, weeping. She wanted to do anything but sing for the roses. After all, she was scared out of her wits. The roses had never gotten quite this willful and demonic before. The last thing she wanted to do was feed them. Still, Lily would be here soon and she wanted to be with her. The only way to accomplish that right now was to feed them and be done with it. Nodding, the pony opened her mouth once more as she had for years and years. Songs of all languages flowed throughout her being and throughout her mind. Her voice was deep and low, as if it was unused for all this time.

"شما امواج خاکستری اقیانوس به مقصد به دنبال زندگی فراتر از ساحل تنها دور از دسترس هستند. با این حال، آب تا کنون تغییر جریان مثل زمان. مسیر شما را امتحان کنید."

The roses seem to sooth with the melody and the swayed back and forth lazily. The blooms grew larger and more numerous as the lyrics continued and the thorns shrunk back into the vines. Lingual Rose, as she sung, felt the connection between her and her beloved plants flourish once more and she felt a sense of completeness within her. She flapped gently towards the vines and let them wrap around her foreleg. She stroked the vines, now free of most thorns, and allowed the blooms to come towards her. One even crawled to her ear and deposited a deep red flower behind her ear. With one final lingering note, Lingual Rose withdrew herself from the plants, meeting with a bit of resistance as she did so.

The roses seemed to mourn her as she retreated into the house but, with one final note, a high B, she left, kissing them goodbye. The flowers chuckled as she left, noting that the pony had once again fallen in love with them. It was their scent that kept them in her good graces, after all. Feeling satisfied, the roses retreated into their usual hibernation and said no more.

Nopony, not even the roses, had noticed a pink earthpony with a lily behind her ear staring in upon the whole scene. Nopony knew that she had tried to go around back and surprise her friend. And now nopony would believe what she had just seen.


	6. Chapter 6

Several days past before Lily could work up the strength to admit what she just saw, even to herself. For days she refused to even leave the house and, when her friends and coworkers called upon her, she could not bring herself to speak to them. Needless to say, she was distraught. What had she seen? Her friend had been completely covered in rose vines and she had been…speaking with them, even singing to them! What kind of relationship did she have with those plants? Lily took the flower, her white lily, out of her mane and gazed upon it. Her golden eyes studied it for any traces of life and, upon finding none, abandoned the search completely, flinging the flower from her sight.

Finally, after two weeks past, Lily left her house. She looked a sight; her mane was a wreck and her eyes glanced to and fro, as if she were desperately searching for something that could not be found. In her heart she knew that this danger had to be faced and the problem confronted. Though she was normally of creature of peace and love, one who did not like conflict whatsoever, she realized that she could not have peace in her life until it was resolved. So, going through town at a glacial pace, Lily attempted to mentally prepare herself.

One thought rang through her mind with complete clarity: Lingual Rose, her best friend, was under the influence of those roses. That she understood well enough. In a way, to her, it seemed that the roses were alive. Not only that, but her friend could actually speak to them! Lily finished her thoughts and looked up. The door of Lingual Rose's house was in front of her so, without any further delay, she knocked upon the door.

Within moments, the knock was responded to with a green face at the door. Lingual Rose, opening the door slowly, also looked ragged. Her mane, normally a sight anyways, was sticking out in all directions. Lily invited herself in instead of waiting for Lingual Rose to tell her so for, it seemed obvious, but she could not do so. The pink earthpony pushed past her friend and stood firmly in the center of the living room. Without mincing her words, she stomped her hoof upon the ground and screamed:

"What happened?!"

Lingual Rose, too stunned to respond, stood near the door and began to shrink back against it. Her wings began to shuffle about and, as she did so, Lily noticed that her wings looked beaten as well. She knew that the thorns had done it. When the green pegasus did not respond, Lily tried once more and repeated her question, this time in a soft voice. Upon hearing this, the pegasus sighed and approached Lily with quiet hoofsteps. With her maroon eyes, soft and deep, she gazed into Lily's eyes and brushed her hoof against her face. The pink one didn't react immediately, but nor did she let the contact linger. The earthpony, heart shattering within her, withdrew and stood back with her eyes watering.

"No, Lingual Rose, I…I can't. Tell me, what were you doing in the garden?"

The other now, too, drew away and hung her head. Could it be true? Did Lily really see what happened in the garden? If so, how could she possibly explain, without using any sort of words, what had happened? Her heart felt as though it would explode at any moment. Now somepony knew of her secret, what could she possibly do? The roses certainly would not stand for this. With languid eyes, Lingual Rose gazed back at her cutiemark. Yes, indeed neither the roses nor her destiny (which had long ago been emblazoned upon her flank) would allow the secret to become known. Still, she wanted to tell Lily everything, to explain what had happened. Though, even if she could speak she was not entirely sure how she would explain such a thing. So, with a weary expression, she simply shook her head.

Lily fumed and stamped her hooves, surprising even herself at this display of fury. Her tail twitched behind her, demonstrating even more her discomfort at this situation. Then, inexplicably, she began to weep. Lingual Rose, genuinely concerned, once more tried to reach out to her. Lily, in a fury once more, slapped away her hoof. In a strained voice, she screamed:

"Lingual Rose you know as well as I do that this isn't healthy! You must leave those roses!"

Upon this, the other was truly started and she could only blink in response. After a few moments, she slowly shook her head once more. No, she could not possibly leave her destiny. After all, without that how could she possibly live on? It was impossible and, for this, she shook her head once more, though her heart was screaming in agony. Though she could not leave her destiny she surely wanted to…for the pony she wanted to be with. Tears split from her eyes. She shook her head for a third time, whimpering.

Lily did not understand.

"How could you? Lingual Rose, you fool! I…I was your friend and you…would throw me away for your roses? How could you! They will only torture you forever, whereas I lo—no! No more!"

Lily, crying loudly, shoved her way once more past her old friend and fled from the room, however she stopped at the doorway saying:

"You know, we could have had something wonderful together. Instead, you chose the twisted love of your bitter flowers. I hope your happy."

The door slammed and Lily seemed to have fled. The other, feeling completely desolate, fell upon the floor of her cold house and wept bitterly for hours on end. It was too late now, completely too late. Never more would that lovely pony call upon her again…and it was really all her fault after all. Lingual Rose heaved a large and labored sigh. Lily…oh Lily! In her mind she cried out for her return.

As always, her silent calls when unheeded.


	7. Chapter 7

Like Lily, Lingual Rose could not bring herself to leave her home for days on end. In fact, for the first week, she dare not even venture out into her garden. As she lay on the floor, pondering in the vast pool of her mind, her thoughts floated and sank as she went. Still, for all her efforts, all of her thoughts lied in a jumbled mass amidst a tormented sea. It was as if the one tear of truth that had brightened the sea at one point had suddenly disappeared. What once was a clear blue sky was now a dark and stormy hell. Lingual Rose wept and wept but it did her no good. Her only friend had left her for good now and there was nothing that could possibly bring her back save for…

Lingual Rose tapped the ground with her hoof. The other pony had said that she was choosing the roses and not her. Was that really true? In essence, she had not "chosen" the roses at all; they were always a part of her. She could no more abandon them than she could her own destiny and, to a greater extent, her identity. Upon her flank was a vine filled with thorns—part of her very soul and existence. It was the representation of who she truly was. She was a pony both gifted in language and cursed with the burden of her garden of whispers. Her roses came with her gift. That was the curse.

Sighing deeply, as though every nerve pained her, Lingual Rose stood up, all her hooves planted on the floor, however wobbly. Her wings spread and, momentarily, jolted with pain. The wounds from the vines were still fresh upon the muscles and the feathers looked torn to pieces. The pony winced in pain and let her head hang as she painfully put the wings back in position. With no hope in her eyes she hung her head and made her way, slowly, to the back door. Her hooves dragged slowly as she walked towards the door, almost as a prisoner approaching the guillotine. It was time.

There was no wind that day, no whisper of a breeze. In fact, the night air, for it was quite late, hung with silence and a grave sense of dread. There were no stars in the sky and the moon was a new moon that night. There was an inky black blanket spread over the world and it allowed no light. The pony, for her eyes were sharp, knew where to step. She felt each cobblestone beneath her hooves and her ears suddenly pricked up. She heard movement. It was, of course, the roses, but her body still tensed. Her mouth opened and she intended to scream, but simply could not. Her eyes filled with shining tears. The roses twisted around the wooden gazebo, saying:

"Ah, sei tornato."

Lingual Rose nodded slowly, her head still hung and her dark bangs covering her eyes. She had, indeed, returned for them. Her hope dwindled out of sight and it felt like there was a weight pressing against her chest. She choked briefly and let out a terse cough. The vines began to swirl and dance around her hooves. Lingual Rose began to sob, with the sounds leaving her mouth now, and tears spilt down to the ground, however they were caught prematurely by the vines or the buds of the flowers. The roses ordered her (in Swedish?) to sing, and Lingual Rose shook with fear. She was going to shake her head "no" but…

"Egin ezazu," ordered the flowers.

With her snout pointed towards the sky, the pony let out a throat-ripping scream. It pierced the night and went into the inky darkness like an arrow shot from a bow. The town began to wake as well and lights from all the houses began to flicker on. The roses paid no heed and curled around her quicker than usual, fueled by her pathetic howl. Around her forelegs and back legs spun the vines, with all thrones bared, raking across her body and drawing blood as they did so. Finally, they reached her mouth…and quickly covered it.

The garden of whispers grew dreadfully silent.

Lily, from across town, heard a scream that chilled her to the bone. Instantly, she knew whom it had come from. Who else could it possibly be? With the sleep shaken from her eyes, the pink earthpony leaped out of bed and sped out the door. As she bolted through town she noticed that others seemed to be up, disorientated and looking for the origin of the scream. However, Lily already knew. She ran ahead to the house in the shadows and went immediately to that cursed garden. In it, she was appalled at what she saw. In the garden, in the dark of the night, was what she assumed was her friend, being suspending up by the vines. She only assumed it was Lingual Rose because the vines had encased her in a cocoon…except for one area: her cutiemark.

The cutiemark was exposed and looked the same as ever, but Lily was clever enough, even in the pitch black of night, to notice one difference: the vine around the "A" of her cutiemark had grown longer and darker. It had changed…so had her destiny too?

In the garden of whispers came one more sound that night, the weeping of one desperate pony, longing for the return of her friend. But who could possibly change destiny?


	8. Chapter 8

When Lingual Rose awoke, her eyes had to blink several times to adjust to the harsh brightness of the day. She saw the sun beaming down upon her as it never had before. It looked like a lovely summer day, which made the pony smile. She laughed and stood up slowly, flexing out her legs and her wings. They looked lovely in the summer sun; they had the color of mint ranging to a dark forest color at the tips of the feathers. She yawned and wondered why she had just done so. Perhaps she had slept well the night before. Smiling, she went for a fly.

Extending her wings, she took off in an instant, leaving only a cloud of dust behind her. The pegasus sped up towards the clouds above, her pony tail flying back behind her as she rose. The yellow gem that held the end of the ponytail glimmered in the sun as she rose higher and higher still, as if Icarus had ascended once more. Finally, when she was amidst the clouds, she began to flap in place, taking in all of the scenery around her. The sky was a lovely clear blue this day and the clouds seemed all the more white and fluffy for it. Laughing once more, she settled on one of the clouds. Her hooves adjusted, as only a pegasus' hooves could, to the density of the cloud and allowed her to maintain a standing position upon it.

Looking down upon the crowd below her, Lingual Rose studied all of Ponyville. Then, it dawned upon her that something was missing. For a long moment, she puzzled upon it. What could be missing from this wonderful day? Then, as she gazed down, she saw a lovely pink earthpony with a lily in her hair. Flitting her wings, Lingual Rose flew up from her cloud and smiled widely. She flew directly downward like a falling comet and continued to descend downward without any thought to her safety. Then, as she never had before, she landed like a professional flyer upon the ground, wings proudly displayed for all the world to see. She smiled.

Working quickly, the pony scanned the crowd for her friend. Within the instant, she found what she was looking for. A pink pony with a golden mane stood in the town square, selling her usual flowery wares. Lingual Rose trotted up to her confidently, grinning like a fool. As she approached she yelled:

"Hey there, pretty pony!"

The other turned her attention to her, and smiled when she saw who it was. With a hoof extended, she held out a lily for the pegasus to sniff. Lingual Rose did so and sighed deeply, as if inhaling and digesting the scent. This time, when she reached out her hoof, the earthpony did not turn away but instead up her own hoof on top of the other's. Her eyes closed gently, as though she were savoring the moment.

"Hello darling," said the earthpony, her eyes sultry and sweet.

Lingual Rose felt her heart flutter and she hugged the other, feeling her soft body against hers. It felt right. Blinking, she drew back to look upon her lovely lily. As ever, she was smiling and happy. Lily gestured for Lingual Rose to follow her and together they walked side by side through town. The sun beat down in all its glory as the day went on and on. It almost seemed never ending. Then, the green pegasus began a conversation.

"So, Lily, how was work today?"

Lily responded that it had been wonderful.

"Lily, did you know that my hydrangeas can go over a week without water? I specially bred them so that they would…"

"Hey, darling, Lily-billy, did you have time tomorrow for…"

After many questions and many short responses from the pink earthpony, the conversation grew sullen for a moment. Then, giggling, Lily said:

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard you so chatty, Lingual Rose."

The pegasus stopped dead in her tracks. Lily, seeing that her partner had stopped, did so as well, though she urged her on even as she did so. The green pony felt her heart quicken in her chest and counted every heartbeat. (Beat). Yes, that was right…. (Beat). She had never spoken so much before… (Beat). And, in English no less…. (Beat, beat, beat). Lingual Rose pushed away from Lily and the image before her faded entirely. The bright sun went black and the world grew cold. Suddenly the world became encased in thorns. The image of Lily began to snicker as Lingual Rose ended her happiest dream.

All the while, the real Lily had been running around the garden frantically, screaming her head off. She wasn't sure what exactly she should be doing. The vines still held her friend far above her head and she had neither the magic nor the power of flight to go up and release her. After a few hours, she saw that within the cocoon of vines her friend had started to twitch and move. The golden eyes of the earthpony brightened; Lingual Rose was alive still! So, there was hope yet for them. Lily, though frightened of confrontation and violence, began to kick and bite at the thorny vines. She winced as they attacked her in return, slashing at her with their thorns. She wanted to cry and run, but knew she could not.

Thinking quickly, Lily thought of one thing she could do, the only thing really. Using all of her mustered strength she began to scream, but this time for a purpose.

"Lingual Rose! Lingual Rose!"

The tiny pink pony began to weep as the vines attacked her ever still, but she would not cease her screams. Something had to appeal to the creature inside of that cocoon. For all her physical weakness, she could not and would not surrender. How could she?

From inside the cocoon, Lingual Rose had already ended her wonderful dream and, instead, had woken up to a nightmare. All around her the darkness entered, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She wept and wept, knowing the cold truth that Lily would never return to her. Not only that, but that even if Lily did return she would not have the strength to repel the roses, so that she could be with the one she…

The roses began to mock her in every language they could conceive, chanting and cursing her as she struggled to maintain her sanity. Suddenly, admits the noises of Swedish, Swahili, Japanese, and Korean, there came a sweet call of English. It wasn't the language that made her happy so much as the meaning it relayed and represented.

"Lingual Rose! I'm here! I'm here!"

The voice was instantly recognizable. It had to be Lily. Upon this revelation, some part in the nightmare infested mind of the pegasus started and paused. Lingual Rose, from in her stasis, recognized this sweet call. Hope began to swell within her; it was true after all. Lily had returned for her! Whether this represented anything remained to be seen, but for now the pony, still trapped, could pause and see what happened. From the outside, the pink earthpony saw that the vines had also paused. It was obvious for the vines were no longer whipping at her. Seizing this opportunity, the earthpony had the idea to call out some more. All the things that she had been thinking, all of the emotions that she had kept to herself, began to ebb and swell until the wave came crashing upon the shore.

"Lingual Rose, it's me Lily. I'm sorry I left you, I really am. I just want you to know how much it hurt me too. I cried for days!"

At this, her eyes began to tear up. From within the cocoon, the pony seemed to be continuing the pause, as if waiting for Lily to continue. Her mind, still plagued by all the doubts and fears not only of her relationship, but of herself as well. The mind of the pegasus was racing with these doubts, letting all the languages mingle as they went. The endless void of her doubts was bubbling with anticipation, as if it would burst at any moment. One bubble, growing in size and strength, questioned the validity of the other pony's statements, but the hope that she felt quickly overwhelmed it. Deep down, from somewhere in the abyss, there was a spark of light. And it longed desperately to be validated.

"You are my friend, Lingual Rose!"

At this, almost immediately, the vines tightened around the cocoon and began to grow restless once more. The pink pony dodged one that swooped down upon her and one from her right as well. She could not afford to be taken down by such a thing at this moment. If she did, she would never be able to confess how she really felt. Based on the reaction she got when she used the word "friend" before, there could be no more waiting. So, from within her heart, which longed to be free once more, she sang out:

"I love you! I love you, Lingual Rose!"

There was no reaction at first, although the confession had been quite heartfelt. The pink earthpony, gazing up above at her friend, waited in anxious dread for some sort of reaction. For some reason, and no reason at all, she lingered at her spot for something awe-inspiring. There were words that this pony longed to hear as well. For any bird can call out with her song, but the beauty is in the response and the harmony that eventually follows.

A sort of metamorphosis, though slow-going, was happening within the bundle of vines. The pony within regained a sort of consciousness. Her mind was forming waves of consciousness which formed into one, slim, but strong, line: one thread of consciousness which was just enough to grasp. She took it. (And, though it was a part of her mind, and consciousness, the string of thought had no language. For once, there was no specific dialect—only thought).

 _Ah! I can feel myself once more. This touch, this presence here, makes me feel…whole. If I drift away into this ocean of thought…what would happen? Would I wake up upon the shore, upon the rough sand? Or, perhaps, would I drift endlessly in the cycle of these repetitive waves? I heard something. Yes, yes, do not forget that. I have heard something from…somewhere else. Ah, a voice, a voice from beyond this darkness. And what would happen if I extended myself beyond this void? Everything in this place nags me to remain as I am, let every language I know consume me. But now, but now something has changed, though I cannot place it._

 _"'_ _I love you'."_

 _Yes! This rings true from somewhere beyond this abyss. I hear this song and I know it to be true, though I cannot say why. And what is the truth anyways, but my perception of it? No, no, concentrate on the words…who said them? Yes, a "who" said them. Something fragrant provokes my memory: a flower. Yes, a flower is what comes into focus though I cannot say why._

 _No! The roses, the roses are evil. I can know them now as the darkness that surrounds me, the anxiety that will not let me be. How can I be at peace? Yet, yet, yet…. this smell that pervades me is not that of a rose. No, it is not a sultry scent at all, but one softer and hardly noticeable…and yet so sweet. A lily, yes, this is a lily._

 _She comes to me know. I remember this pony from the beyond and now she must be calling to me. This pony loves me? Ah, how my being leaps with joy! Lily's sweet love is everything I have ever wanted. Yes, a jewel like her cannot be misplaced. And yet, for all this I am not there with her, and where am I anyways?_

 _The roses! I must be rid of these roses. Oh, Lily, you were right. I rejected a possible love between us due to my anxiety. The roses' control over me must cease. Although…. although I know that the roses are a part of my destiny, I can no longer continue to live in this nightmare. No, there has to be another way. The thorns upon my flank cannot represent this horrid form of life. There must be a way….and I know who can help me find it._

 _Lily! Lily! I choose you!_

From the beyond, known as Ponyville, there was an earthpony watching in fascination as the rose vines began to slowly recede and descend. From within them there was a shining light, as though there were a star within. Then, all at once, a flash of light burst from within and the vines flew back, screaking for all to hear. There, standing in the middle of the gazebo, was a beautiful pony with a slim green body and flashing maroon eyes. And she spoke:

"Lily!"


	9. Chapter 9

The pink pony ran to her friend, galloping over the vines and through the garden towards the other. Lingual Rose, upon seeing this, ran to meet her halfway, weeping openly as she did so. They embraced fondly, but their happiness was short-lived. For, as they front hooves were wrapped around one another, a hissing noise, like that of a snake, began to crescendo. The green pony defended the other, stepping in front of her bravely with wings outstretched. Her maroon eyes shone in the rising light of the day. It would be dawn soon.

The vines seemed to have recovered since she burst through them. They began to rise up once more from the woodwork of the gazebo, whispering as they did so. The roses, beginning to bloom quickly, lead the charge. They refused to back down without a fight. Lingual Rose turned to Lily and nodded, assuring her safety. Then, with a quick sigh, she stepped forward to meet her greatest foe. The roses snickered at this act for it would prove nothing in the end. They knew where their power lied and it was not within her anymore.

"Þú heldur að þú ert frjáls, en þú ert skakkur."

Lingual Rose did not let this deter her. She would be free, in the end. Spreading her wings further, in a show of might, she stepped forward. Her heart palpitated quickly and she feared it would fail her in the end. Blinking slowly, she steeled herself. The first step would assure her of victory. If she could open her mouth to speak then she could truly express herself. Looking down at her cutiemark, she sighed. This would mean rejecting part of her cutiemark. That vine across the letter "A" represented a part of her still. To deny the roses meant denying her destiny…but it had to be done.

"Je suis libre."

The roses shifted and the larger blooms swooped down to surround her in a force of physical intimidation. It worked. The blooms grew and grew, singing the same song that the pony had often sung to them. They mocked her and, while doing so, grew to surround her in a hell of deep red petals. Lingual Rose sank to the ground and covered her head with her hooves. It was all too much for her. She began to weep once more and could not find the words to tell them "no". Her breath caught in her throat and she knew she was going to have an attack as she had so many times before. Sweat beaded at her forehead, underneath her bangs, and her heart began to beat even faster. It looked hopeless; the best thing to do would be to accept the situation but…

"Нет!"

She stood suddenly, rejecting them with her words. No longer would she suffer under the status quo. No longer would this crushing anxiety mark her personality as it had since the day she first received her cutiemark. Standing firmly upon her own hooves, Lingual Rose took a deep breath and began to shout as never before.

"لم يعد سوف تعاني تحت لك.

Non erit tristis ego.

ฉันอยากเป็นอิสระ; ฉันอยากมีความสุข.

Jeg elsker henne, og jeg vil gi alt til henne.

Ella és la meva major amor i per ella em rebutgen tots vostès.

Ab heute bin ich endlich frei!"

And so it was that she rejected her own roses, and her own pre-made destiny. The roses, confused, could not find their own words, nor could they feed off her worry or anxiety, for there was no more. Without nourishment, and gripped by fear, they began to shrivel away. Down and down the vines went, twisting as they did so, until all that remained in the garden was a single rosebush. The leaves were a waxy green and upon the bush there was one single bloom. And it was pure white. Lingual Rose, still unsure, went to the bush. She whispered a word or two into the leaves, but the plant did not respond. This was all the proof she required. It was over; she was free.

Then Lily began to squeal excitedly, pointing her hoof at the back of Lingual Rose. She turned around and saw that her flank was shining. Then, all at once, she had an epiphany. The roses were not an innate part of her destiny, as her vine was upon her flank, but a part of its meaning. True, she was gifted at languages and that was a gift that marked her forever. It was something that made her truly happy. Her destiny wasn't that she could only speak in languages to the roses, for what good would ever come of that? No, the vine represented how she could no begin to spread the languages to other ponies; how through them the world could be joined in the many languages that created such an orally diverse world. The roses did not represent an anxiety that could not be beaten or worked through, but instead upon her flank they represented this new possibility. Her anxiety would not be a part of her any longer. And, she knew that any future, no matter how frightening, could be faced with her new partner.

Lingual Rose turned around and ran to Lily once more, hugging her tightly. Lily drew back, her face blushing, and said, excitedly:

"So, does this mean you can speak to me?"

The green pony nodded with fervor, her bangs bobbing as she did so. To prove her point, she began to speak rapidly.

"Ja! Jeg kan tale på alle sprog, som du ønsker ... undtagen engelsk."

Lily's golden eyes sparkled and she began to laugh. Her partner thought it sounded like a little bird chirping. It was very sweet.

"You can't speak in English to me, can you?"

The green pony shook her head, a bit sadly. The other pony hugged her once more and smiled, baring brilliant white teeth. She kissed the other gently upon the cheek, blinking slowly as she did so. It was a bold move for her.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Lingual Rose, afraid that Lily would leave her, shook her head quickly, her big eyes pleadingly big. Why would she kiss her and then leave anyways? That made no sense! Lily seemed to pick up on this, for she was quite good at reading her partner's facial cues now, laughed lightly and swept a hoof over her partner's thick bangs.

"I guess I'll have to take a language class!"

Lingual Rose's wings shuffled brightly and she grew happy once more. She closed her deep eyes and kissed Lily upon her mouth. Lily let hers close languidly, enjoying the sweet sensation. Notably, it was warmer than she could have thought. Naturally, after a few moments, they drew away from one another. Lingual Rose laughed once more; she couldn't find the words to describe how elated she was!

Lily blushed once more and said:

"Maybe I'll take two language classes..."

And that was that.

So it was that the couple began to date happily and Lily did take those language classes (Spanish and German, as it happened). The couple began to discuss more complex things as both of their language skills continued to evolve. Lingual Rose, upon discovering the true meaning of her cutiemark, began to teach language classes at the Ponyville Town Hall. Ponies both young and old came to take her classes on languages from Japanese to Swahili. When visiting dignitaries came to town, it was said that they were very impressed at the language and communicative skills of this little town.

This isn't to say that she quit her little job tending the garden in Town Square, but Lingual Rose tended it now with Lily, as a volunteer project for the town. Together, they made the flowers grow with their ever-increasing attention to them. During the springtime, Ponyville had the most gorgeous garden, and it was for all to see. After all, after moving in with Lily, Lingual Rose never did return to her garden, nor did she have the desire too. The house was sold shortly after her move-in to an older couple with no interest in gardening whatsoever.

And, as it seems to happen, they lived happily ever after…


End file.
